The Azkaban Diaries
by Burning Artist
Summary: The memoires of an innocent man are finally put to light as he spends the next 12 years within the walls of Azkaban Wizard Prison. How did Sirius keep his sanity? How did he escape?
1. Year 1

**A/N:** I have to say that this is a co-written story in Diary Form so the entries are **EXTREMELY SHORT**. That's the way they were written and that's the way they'll stay. If you were in prison with a bunch of happiness devourers everywhere, would you write novels? No, I didn't think so. LOL!

This story is written by **LinzyBrook** from HP.com and **me.** So either way I cannot change anything that is not mine. I also want to share credit because it's irritating when _a co-written story gets reviews for one person._ You will know who has written each entry at the **end of the**** post. **

**Disclaimer:** *Takes Flower* I own Sirius – I own him not – I own Sirius…. I own him Not!!

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**November 7 1981******

I sit here wondering why things turn out this way... 

Petty as it all seems, writing might be the only way to save my sanity. I had never truly known hatred until last week. This cold unfeeling grip that strangles every part of my soul... or maybe it's the Dementors? No, it's this hatred that is truly draining me away. This loathing I cannot support in my chest, a loathing for the one I once called friend: Peter Pettigrew. May these memoirs serve me well after I begin to loose all that I treasure: my happy memories. I'm sorry James. I'm sorry Lily. I'm very sorry Harry. 

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**November 8 1981   
  
Nine days ago my world turned upside down. Nine days ago all I have ever known was stolen from beneath me; from a man I had considered my friend for so many years. I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought that by turning my duties to Peter the Potters would be saved, I thought....   
But none of that matters now. I thought wrong, I was tricked, betrayed, and my best friend and his wife are now dead. Dead because I was too afraid to face the dark image. What will become of Harry? Living with muggles, growing up knowing nothing of his family, or of his heritage, and growing up to believe that I killed his parents, parents he never got to know.....**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**November 9th 1981******

There's something about the smell here.   
The air seems thin. I just wish I could look outside. The coal I've stolen from the heating room is starting to tint my hands... I need more napkins to write on... It's starting to become hard for me to remember times when I was sitting at my desk writing to James with a clean piece of parchment and my favourite raven-feather quill. Come to think of it... My house seems hazy now...   
I guess I'll have to wait until lunch tomorrow to get more napkins... I hate this place... I hate the one who put me here...   
I think that in the end that is all I will remember for the Dementors have been paying me more visits, was I ever truly blessed with this many happy memories?   
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**November 10th, 1981_   
  
All my memories are becoming fuzzy, they seem to be surrounded by an incredibly fine mist. The only things that seem completely clear to me right now are that I am innocent, and James and Lily are gone. I will never see their smiling faces, never see them hold Harry so lovingly, never hear their voices, never see them sparkle, never see Harry grow up, never......   
And all because that rat tricked me! I thought I could trust him, and look where it got me. Locked up in hell, with the Devil's hands standing guard outside me door. No trial...they didn't even give me a trial... Not that that would have done any good, Lily, James and Peter were the only ones who knew that we had switched places. If I hadn't been such a dolt I would have at least told Remus, but I thought it would be him, if any of us, to turn, Peter lastly! Why was I so stupid, why......   
  
**~Sirius~**_**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**November 15th 1981******

Strange… where did the days go? What a horrible feeling to not know anything. Today things took a turn for the worst... It was the first time and certainly not the last that a Dementor approached me. As he ushered my into my cell I felt his green scaly hands touch my skin. Never did I imagine the horrors that could come from him…It was their bodies I'd seen… both them under the pile on wood, Lily's red hair flowing like blood. Yet there was no blood… just death. No visceral indication of mutilation… just cold, soulless death: a pitiless, heartless murder. I hope he's happy… I hope wherever he is he's proud of what he's done. I sit and rot here while he stays loose. It's a good thing I do... for only a horror like this would ever really turn me into a murderer. 

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**November 19th, 1981   
  
This place is eating me inside. There is no joy, no hope, only despair and sorrow. The Dementors are sucking my life out of me, every time I come into contact with one I see James and Lily, dead, and every time it gets worse. This morning, as they pushed my "food" beneath my door I was hit with such an intense feeling of pain that I feel backward. I saw not only Lily and James, lying there, but Harry crying as he sat there amid his dead parents, confused, innocent, and with a wound the shape of a lightning bolt bleeding on his forehead. At least Harry is alive though, that is the only comfort I can take from that horrible sight. At least it is something to sustain me in these dark days.   
I vow that I will get out of this place, I don't care how long it takes me, but I will escape. And when I do, I will hunt down the rat like a dog, and I will treat him with the same regard he treated James. He will pay. He will pay......   
I have found that in my darkest hours I can transfigure into my canine self, this helps me to come inside myself when I feel I can no longer handle the torture that I am being forced to endure..........**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**December 2nd 1981******

The days keep getting shorter. My plan is working. They don't seem to notice that I'm a dog but they have been agitated lately though. I think they're getting upset that they can't rob me of my feelings. I couldn't care less. Since then, good things have been coming back to me. I've begun to remember the Potter's wedding. Lily was a vision and James was so nervous. I told the fool not to worry; they'd be fine. Remus told him that they'd be happy… Peter… Peter looked livid. I see know that he wasn't nervous at all.  He was fearful… another Potter put onto this world might have frightened him. Another Potter to betray.  And even if he wasn't on the Dark Lord's side then it still remains embedded in mind of his traitorous nature … I've noticed that I've become thin… too thin. It was a good thing I learned to transform when I did…

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**December 25th, 1981   
  
Today is Christmas. For the first time in my life I have no reason to wish others a Happy Christmas. This is hard, this hurts. I remember last Christmas. Lily and James had invited Lupin, Peter and I to join them for the holidays. Peter hadn't come, he's said he had business to take care of, and we didn't' think anything of it then, now I know what business that was... But, Lupin and I were there with the Potters. Harry was 5 months old, and such a cute baby. I remember how Lily cooed over him, and how he smiled so brightly at her, James looking on proudly. That was when they had asked me to be Harry's Godfather, in case anything happened to them.... A right bit of good I'm doing Harry now.... Remus, James and I hadn't been together since Harry's birth, but it was if no time had passed. Best friends can spend years away from one another, but when they are reunited its as if they never left each other's side. Lily teased us all so that day. Talking about how sometimes she felt that she had married the lot of us, and that Harry was the luckiest child on earth to have James for a father, me for a Godfather and Remus as an "uncle" of sorts. And saying that he couldn't be more protected with a Stag, Dog and Werewolf for company... I can almost taste her cooking: the turkey, quail, ham, potatoes, sweet cakes, pasties, pumpkin juice, butter beer, nothing like the slop that they give us here. Lily was a master cook...   
Sometimes these memories are all that keeps me from utter desolation...**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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	2. Year 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is a product of Rowling's genius…. And I am a product of her fandom!

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**February 10th, 1982****.**

I think they're noticing that I'm stealing napkins to write. I haven't been able to get any coal since December but I did find a muggle quill on the floor next to me of the floor, that could last me for a bit.  I've still no idea how it got there. I've heard rumours floating in and out of the prisoners here. They're mostly mad but seemed to have known all about Peter and his devotion to Voldermort. They're furious… They want to kill him for leaving the dark lord. I'd gladly join them if they ever managed to escape. Everything's becoming hazier… It's getting difficult to think… They've increased my security. The gloom in here drowns me. I like re-reading my memoirs; it reminds me that I was once happy and that there is another existence outside these walls. I think I got a visitor yesterday but I was too weak to see whom it was. I could sense another person's presence however. Who would visit me if they believe I'm a criminal?

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**April 21st, 1982   
  
It has been a long time since I have been able to write, and I still cannot get the image of that man's "death" out of my mind. It is ever present, even in sleep..... More people are being brought in than ever before, I have been able to catch small bits of conversations that they are rounding up the last of the Death Eaters, I keep hoping for signs of Pettigrew... But he faked his own death, and I can't see him being stupid enough to blow his own cover. Still...if someone were to sight him...   
The Dementor's are more appeased than ever, with so many new humans to feed off of, so many fresh memories to ingest. Luckily, this means that they leave me in "peace" a little more, as they have sucked so much of me away already.   
I am forcing myself to remember things...this keeps me saner. This morning, as I sat alone, I thought back to my years at Hogwarts, thought of nothing but the feeling I got when I first became an Animagus... I had forgotten that I had even been attempting it... James was practicing Quidditch with Remus, Peter and I watching and Snape chose to interrupt our training session... He took off after James, and I was so mad that I grabbed a broom and took off after him. I started to feel funny, and realized I was growing thick, black fur on my arms and legs... I detoured into the Forbidden Forest as fast as I could! I will never forget that day.   
Little did I know that it would save my life in the bleak future...?**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**May 7th, 1982   
  
It has been exactly six months since I was brought to this god-forsaken place. Six terrible months. Is this how I am going to be forced to spend the remainder of my life? Locked in a cage like an animal on constant display to a crowd of emotion-thirty demons? I have thought often of attempting to break out of here, but where would I go? No one would ever believe that I am innocent, and without a purpose I would just wander... At least here they feed me, if you can even call it that. If only I had some inkling of where Pettigrew was, if only that I would at least know where to begin. Without that information however, I am better off here... I can listen to conversations that the ministry has when they come to make their reports, and I can keep an eye out for the new ones brought in all the time.   
I am transforming much more frequently now. It helps me keep a simple mind, and the Dementors cannot suck so much out of me this way, my emotions are much more primitive. I can almost sleep in my canine form, almost sleep without seeing the image of that mans gruesome death.......**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**May 18th, 1982   
  
Barty Crouch was here today. I heard him talking with someone else, but it was a man I didn't recognize about the number of death eaters he has put in here, heard him mention a few that were cleared, like Lucius Malfoy....If he wasn't a death eater, then those dementors can give me their kiss. One of the most devoted servants of the dark mage is running free and powerful, and I, an innocent man, am trapped here! There is no justice in this world. No justice with Barty Crouch running the "trials." He condemns everything associated with the dark arts unless they are powerful enough for him to worry about "what it would look like to the ministry." I hate him, I hate him almost as much as I hate Peter. No trial......no trial......   
If it wasn't for Peter, Lily and James would be celebrating their five year anniversary in a week. I remember this time back then. How nervous James was, how the girls kept giggling like we were back in Hogwarts......... They should still be happy...still together...raising their son...**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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**July 31st 1982******

Today is my godson's birthday. Little Harry should be 2 years old today. I hope he's well. I hope his aunt and uncle are taking good care of him. It grieves me not to be able to send him a birthday present. But could I possibly send him? Pieces of ripped letters and a fork from the prison food trays, I think not. I wonder if he looks more like James now. When I left him I saw the twine of fine black hair just root out of his scalp. It was a mess, just like James'. But his little eyes, half open and innocent… those little eyes we're Lily's. He has to be the perfect way to keep them alive: the Potter's little boy, embodying them both. It's like the gods knew that they had to make Harry look like that because death would take his parents so soon, too soon. If James we're alive right now, I'm sure he'd have already taught little Harry to ride a broom. He would have made sure he knew that even before he learned how to walk. These images of what could be have been forced the first smile on my face since I saw that Harry was alive. It's almost hurts. Well, Happy birthday Harry.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**October 16th 1982******

I have come to a realization; my stupidity had no true justification. Why Peter? Why not Remus? Perhaps it's because I could not conceive of that little rat as dangerous. A spy… a slithering spy… Yet, Snape was a spy for us… He was the one to tip us off of the Potters being searched after in the first place… What a strange twist to an inevitable fate. Snape, who in our youth was a sworn enemy and Peter who had stayed by our side during those times… were in fact their opposites. Snape might have loathed James but in the end he did pass on the right information… I still think he's not to be trusted… and I'd have gladly seen him come here and be locked up just as I was. Yet, laying hatred a side I'm still finding it hard to conceive of such a reality existing… I suppose these thoughts have come to me because it will be their anniversary soon… just 15 days until the time of their deaths. I wish I had some brandy… A little to poor through the filth-ridden bars and the rest so I can drink… I care not to be sober on that horrid day…

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**October 31st 1982******

How strange. I used to love Halloween. The vision of those beautiful golden plates piled high with food used to bring the biggest smile to my face. I could remember me sitting next to Remus and across from James, Lily nervously next to him. I'm sure they were holding hands under the table as we ate. The thought of food always makes me weary. I'm still horridly thin… I'm nothing but skin and bones… You'd think the Azkaban guards would feed us more so we'd stay alive longer. They'd have a better meal this way or maybe they get bored with the same flavor of happy memories. Well, they won't be stealing them for me anymore. Being a dog, they do not feel me… they've stopped roaming around my cell, they probably believe I'm dead or taken away... No, they'd have protested that I'd be taken. My memories are sweet and worth the taking for it is just this that it keeping me from going mad. Thank you James, thank you Lily. It is your memories that are saving me from totally collapsing: your friendship, your love, your caring. So I stand here and choose not to be raped of my hope. Courage, man! You are strong Sirius! Today, on the day of James and Lily's death, I vow… I vow to rectify my mistake! I vow to avenge you both, my guardian angels!

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **Burning Artist**

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**December 3rd, 1982   
  
It's cold, I don't remember ever being this cold. I am getting so very thin, even in my canine form I feel as though I have lost the warmth of thick fur... I used to have a cloak, a wonderful cloak, Lily had made one for me and one for Remus as a gift for being James' groomsmen. It was so warm, so soft, and so full of happiness. There was happiness sewn into the fabric... a little piece of everyone I loved... It was made of heavy black velvet, the Dog; with gleaming horn buttons, the Stag; and was sewn with silver thread, the Moon.   
They were identical, we were brothers, and she had given James one as well. She had said to us that day, "As long as you boys have these, the Marauders will forever ride," well, I don't have mine, and James is gone... I don't know about Remus, I haven't seen him in so long. Every now and again I think I hear his voice, think he has come to tell me that I am free, but it's only a dream. Remus won't come; he doesn't know it wasn't me... When I get out of here, I will retrieve my cloak, as long as I know where it is, I have a piece of Lily and of James...a piece of the old days.....**

**~Sirius~**

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Written by **LinzyBrook******

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	3. Year 3

**A/N**: Sorry it's been a while but I'm trying to work on all my stories right now so be prepared for a WHOLE lot of posts coming from ALL my fan fictions!

**Disclaimer:** This is MY depiction of Sirius' time in Azkaban from the brilliant workings of J.K.R!

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**March 4th or 5th 1983**

The days are still looking bleak. I'm finding it difficult to keep count. No more coal… I haven't been able to mark down the days that pass on the wall for the last two weeks. Time is so precious.  There is so much of it, yet so little at the same time. Time is one thing I've learned not to take for granted anymore. My, has it really been 17 months? I've stopped hearing the ranting of the others prisoners. It seems that they've finally given up on their great Lord coming to free them or they're lying there like lifeless corpses after Dementor visits. It's finally gotten a bit warmer. I wonder what's it's like to leave the wretched place? I feel like I've lived here my entire life. I turn my head to see a few Death Eaters on my right. Next to them is the hallway that leads to the inner gates and the left stonewall has a spider web in the top corner. I wonder if the spiders ever catch any flies. They look as thin as I. I wish I could smell and taste liberty again. They should catch him by now… and when they do, he'll cry like a pathetic infant! He'll tell them he was the one to betray the Potters! He'll tell them that they were the ones who truly committed a crime in locking me up here. Pettigrew is weak. He'll cave in.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**June, 1983**   
  
I am beginning to feel as though he may never be seen... Even Peter isn't stupid enough to be spotted; it would raise too many questions, when everyone thinks him dead. But, where is he hiding? Living with the rats I presume, feeding off waste, refuge, filth and slime, feeding off the very things that he is? But, Peter is weak, he is an insolent fool...how long will he be able to remain with them, before even the vermin realize that he is not what he appears...he will not last long with them, he craves praise to much...he will be found, someday, and he will pay dearly in the end.   
How like the Siren's life can be, luring you towards her, giving you thoughts of happiness, and then trapping you in horror once more. It teases at you like a breeze on a hot summer day, taunting you with hope only to go still once more. The irony of my "crime" will haunt me even longer than the dementor's. What I thought was an intelligent decision, what I thought was an unbreakable and infallible plan turned into a nightmare of unimaginable proportion... When will this wrong be righted? When will I see light, for all that is here is dark....   
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**July 31 1983******

Can it truly be? Has another year passed by so quickly? Today a ministry man came by saying that it was a famous boy's birthday today. That he was one of the most important wizards to come in our age and when he uttered that name I was happy. To be happy feels like a distant memory… Harry you have become famous! You have become loved and you are still living out your life. 3 years old… had it truly been that long ago since I left your gaze? I'm loosing all sense of time. I want to be out of here. I want to see my little boy, I promised to God I'd take care of him when the worst had turned… and it had. But I cannot fulfill my promise to you until I am released. I want to see Harry grow. I want to be there. I missed his first step, his first words… and he doesn't know I exist or worse, maybe he does and hates me for it.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**September, 1983**   
  
The weather is dismal these days. I can hear the rain pummeling the roof tops, and the wind shaking the walls of this underworld. Inside, however, it is as if there is no current. The air is so still and thick, as if no one is breathing to move it, or as if a giant void is sucking in everything within the confines of these walls. Sometimes I think that this place does not exist, that it is a mind trap where nothing is as it seems, as if we are being held within our own beings, unable to break through the powers controlling us from outside. I hear no sounds but muffled silence, as though I am underwater, I know that there is noise around me, but...the dull pounding of my only crystal clear thought is the only sound ringing throughout my being.   
I am innocent...

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**A/N:** I've decides to put up the chapters in this way! It will be a lot simpler for people to read plus it separates the posts in Years isn't stead of days. I hope you like anyways.


	4. Year 4

**A/N:** WOW…. Time to update again! This is going slower then I anticipated! Lol. But as I go along I'm starting to forget which posts were mine and which were Linzy's! I hope she doesn't get mad at me if I mess up! Well, here's Year 4 and the **HARRY ****ARK****!!** Woohoo!! And I thank Trinity Day for her critique! I think it's a lot better this way. :)  

**Disclaimer:** I own… um… my imagination… well, actually only half since this was co – written… Gah! Fine, fine! It's all J.K.Rowlings… but with our special twist!

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**January 1984**

What was once rain has now become snow. Winds from the north freeze the air and turn the season to an unfeeling and deathly period. If only the wind would freeze my veins. Then I would be insensitive to the relentless thoughts that trouble me in the middle of the night. I've been getting visions. Strange ones with, what I can only determine to be, cryptic messages. One night I saw a thin, young boy. He cries in a tight place. It's enclosed. The air is warm. He wipes his tears on his sleeve and looks about for something… he finds a book and squints to look at it… he can't read it. When I opened my eyes I swore that I could see him in my cell. Although the darkness it was like I could see him better this way: Dark hair, bristled and wild. But I never saw his face. He hid it from me like he was ashamed. I stood up to try to make him face me but I reached into nothingness as my hand drew near enough to touch him. He was an illusion… being here for son long… my mind is getting affected. I must continue to remain sane. That night I couldn't help but feel dreadful pain. I wanted to comfort that child and tell him he was crying for no reason, it was unexplainable because I still do not know why I would have told him something like that…

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**April, 1984**   
  
The spring has brought more rain, and with the rain has come a wash of more prisoners. It has been a long time since last I saw so many un-emaciated faces.... they have not yet succeeded to the horrors that will inevitable drain their very will to live from their souls. Wash their minds blank of all that existed before.   
  


This has given me an unexpected burst of desire. I see men so freshly captured that I can almost absorb their fleeting freedom as they stare about, muttering to themselves...   
I see again this young boy in a vision.... it is almost prophetic, as if he is trying to tell me something, willing me on unknowingly. But who he is, I cannot imagine. It is disturbing, and yet, it is a comfort. I cannot fathom its meaning, but I feel that someday it will be made clear to me...   
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook******

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**August 1984**

They've already caved in. Those men of whom I wrote about in my final entries have caved in. They are fully mad. Some official looking men have taken them away. I thank the stars that I ever learned how to master being an animagi. I see them babbling on and on about everything that passes their eyes from the smallest insect to the shadows that creep so very often along these walls. Today I was moved to another cell. It seems because of my resistance to the dementors they've decided to put in an even more heavily guarded area. The fools! They won't take me… I'll never cave in. However, I'm starting to forget things; I have trouble remembering James' face. I never thought I would, I've known this man for most of my life, my brother's face erased from my head… does it have to do with this boy of whom I continue musing about his presence in my imagination?  There's a link but what?

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**December 1984**

I sleep in the maximum prison chamber. I can only suppose the Dementors have grown restless. They want to have my happy memories… Well, luck to them because they've been starting to slip on their own… Lily's face has now become blurry. I had another dream about the boy. He still hasn't shown his face to me… but we talked in a dream… He told me that he didn't get any presents for Christmas. I told him it's ok… as long as you had a good time… but once I said that he began to weep. It was then when I said: _"No, don't cry for them… these are wasted tears. You should only cry when it's worth the price of your tears. Be brave."_ He then looked up, his face still in shadow and stopped. Though difficult, I'm sure I saw a smile. He then vanished. When I awoke I was under the impression that he was dreaming all the while I was. That we connected unknowingly through the dream. I hear some of the newer prisoners whisper strange things next to me like: _"Look, he's gone mad… he's even crazy in his dreams…"_ They don't know what awaits them… they don't know how far from insanity I am compared to what they'll become.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**A/N:** PLEASE Review! I haven't gotten one here for a VERY long time….


	5. Year 5

**A/N:** So here I am again posting this extremely short year. This one only has two entries because madness often stops one from writing. I wonder if I can get Linz to see this! I'm sure she'd be happy to see this story again… even if these particular posts are mine. Lol

**Disclaimer**: I AM INNOCENT… err… I mean, I'm not profiting for J.K.Rowling works. lol

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**April 1985**

Every once and a while, when I see a Dementor pass, I forget to transform. This could result to be very dangerous for me… The gloomy creatures have doubled their rounds and numbers around me. They're starting to feel me again. I'd spit on their faces if I wasn't so terrified of them. Those monstrous faces of which I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to look into… Enemy… yes… What was it about an enemy that I used to conspire about? All I truly remember is the hatred I felt for him… yes, hatred… I remember now. Pettigrew. Vile worm, disgusting bottom feeder, lowly wretch! He should be here! He should take my place! I don't deserve to be here! I'm innocent! I'm innocent!! Release me… release me… Boy, tell them I'm innocent.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**June 1985**

I've started to think again but things are starting to slip… My dreams are getting more vivid and then I wonder what they all truly mean. It's all I can think about. Everything else that used to fill the space in my mind seems blurry… That boy and my presence here have a connection. Wait! Why am I here? When he appears in my dreams it feels like a have re-entered a lost world. A world that is familiar and safe yet I cannot fathom its meaning. The Dementors have started to come more often… They are doing their rounds in threes around my cell. I have had less and less will to turn into my animagus. This is bad. Why was I incarcerated? What is my reason for being here? I know that it has to do with that child but for all the powers that be WHAT!!!??? All I remember is I'm innocent… but of what heinous crime am I being punished for? It's finally caught up to me… I'm going mad…

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**


	6. Year 6

**A/N:** Well, I'll keep posting as long as I have story. lol! ::Sigh:: I like having attention though… *twiddles thumbs*

**Disclaimer:** More Serious Sirius stuff! Thanks for letting us borrow him J.K.R!

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**January, 1986**   
  
I am drowning. I can see a fuzzy light far above me but I cannot reach it. I am in the belly; no oxygen, no life, only darkness and fear... Each day I sink deeper into her grasp, each day I become weaker... It has been two months since last I transformed. I have no energy for it... it makes me ill. I try to save my food so that I may eat one real meal a day, hoping that it will give me the energy I need to sustain another hellish night but it is so hard... for I am so cold, thin, weak, shaking… I see in sleep the boy, he is also thin, shaking and he is alone. He reaches for me but WHO IS HE?! Is he meant to haunt me for eternity in my nightmares? He needs a comfort that I long to give him but cannot! What is the meaning of this, of him, of hell, of life, of anything? Where is the meaning? I am trapped here like a wild animal, chained and guarded, denied all happiness, denied my LIFE? I ask myself again why I am trapped in the god-forsaken pit… for I am an innocent man… an innocent man…  
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**April, 1986**   
  
I had a visitor today, not a real visitor, but an intruder in my cell. A small, grotesque animal with beady, hideous eyes, and a tail, thick and pink like a worm... I wanted nothing more than to tear it limb from limb, make it suffer, make it pay, take its happiness as it took mine… but why I wanted this, I could not remember. As I thought about its destruction my mind began to clear, thoughts began to form with cohesiveness and clarity. That rodent, that tail, that MAN! The reason I am here, the reason I have not seen the sun is six years, not smelt fresh air… Peter… Wormtail… I charged the beast but it ran from me, slipping easily through the bars. I know it was not he but it was one of his breed. I screamed for it! I screamed for my friends! I screamed for his ultimate destruction… and then they were upon me, approaching in a mass, hooded and terrifying, and I fell back as they came closer. Suddenly, I became my canine counterpart and they became confused. This tool is my only weapon and it had been such a long time, such a very long time since I had been able to do it. But, in my moment of resolution, I did what I had to… to survive…   
I will make the rat pay… no matter the cost!  
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**May, 1986**   
  


Since my encounter with the vermin my mind has been clearer though I can feel it slipping slowly again when they come near. They are almost constantly around my cell now. I think it frustrates them that I have not gone mad yet, not been drained and left as an insane shell. At times they come in great numbers, but I have learned since my encounter that fear can give me the strength I need to transform and that keeps them at bay. They become disorientated, they cannot sense me clearly...   
I find that my writing also helps me keep my sanity for I can pour out my thoughts onto what scraps I have available and can read them when I feel so utterly lost and without direction. I fear the day this muggle quill looses all ink. It has been my only comfort for so long…  
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**August 1986**  
  
A new clarity has unfolded itself to me and revealed its purpose in the dark. The boy… the boy looked upon me in sleep once more, crying, terrified, lonely and mournful. But, this time he allowed me to glimpse his face. I saw the tear streaming down from his clear eyes… eyes that looked out at me from behind round, black glasses. The shock of black hair, wild atop his head; this was the face of my best friend, but younger, much, much younger. This was the face of my Harry, my Godson. It was like looking at James again. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move for fear that the image would dissolve in front of me but it remained and he reached for me, sobbing. I reached out to him but could not grasp his small, thin hands. My Harry is afraid and abandoned... I will find him one day, I will find him and show him the home he should have had – should have had, had it not been for me…   
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**September 1986**

Oh Spite, oh Tyranny oh Hell! These words can easily describe the irrefutable suffering I feel enclosed within these walls. My senses regained, I have become tiered of this never-ending existence! Perhaps insanity has its strong points: Time passes much quicker. Oh what a body can feel when the mind is diluted to pure emotion.  I live now only to find my way out to see my godson, to clear my name, to tell the world of the terrible injustice that as befallen upon me… to catch this RAT and to gut him slowly… yes. Slowly so he can feel the suffering I've had to endure. But I must weigh my time carefully. The traces of insanity still linger in my thoughts… I must not be rash… But thinking of a way to escape now might do me good. Harry should be in school by now. I never saw my boy out to wish him good luck on his first day or to tell him to be brave. Sadly, after being able to transform into my canine self at will again, the visions have stopped. But I know why he was crying that day. He felt alone; such as I have during these innumerable months. I wonder if he was ever reaching out for me. How could he, he knows not of me and if he does, he'd b reaching out for my neck. No Sirius, you cannot pervert the purity of children. Hate is something gained through the road to adulthood. Even though I can no longer see you Harry, I know that you are well and that is comfort enough for me to stand being here until the moment is right.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**December 1986**   
  
The pain is becoming unbearable. I feel as though cold, sharp needles are being pressed against my skin. My mind is numb to all but the pain, and a thick, white haze continually clouds my thoughts.   
There is little clarity in me in these bitter, dismal winter days...I have but one clear and distant thought, and that is of my innocence. I, an innocent man, caught in this pestilential prison… This life I looked forward to living, turning into a hell I do not want to endure.   
But, I must continue on... I must stay alive! I must stay sane… I vow to live to the day that Harry knows the truth. That it was Peter, and not I, who killed his parents! And I live to see the day that Peter will suffer, suffer for all the things he has caused, and all my years lost.  
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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	7. Year 7

**A/N:** Okay… well, here's some more stuff anyways. I'm just warning people that I have LOADS to renovate to this story but I'm putting up what I have anyways cause I wanna. There might be some new updates after 1990 in the older sections just to let you know! Now… on with the show!!

**Disclaimer:** Sirius Black and everything that involves him is Joanne Rowling's. I'm just having fun here.

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**May 7th, 1987******

The Ministry of Magic had just sent someone to check up on me. I think he was far more disturbed by the fact that I wasn't broken then by the Dementors. I have been here for nearly 7 years? I asked the Minister Official for the day, finally a day to put along side this entry. It was refreshing to add a number although it was still the one that sealed my doom; Seven. And they say that number is lucky? What irony! That which is luck to one man is truly misfortune to another! Oh how I hate that number!

I wonder if they know. I wonder if they realize at the ministry that I am innocent. I wonder if they are hiding the information to save face… for I had been none but loyal to our side. Filthy turncoats! They had put so much faith in me and then, see how easily they cast me away! I wonder if Peter has been killed…Serves him well…

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**June 20th, 1987**   
  
I have been trying to tally the days since I found out the length of my misery. I know not how accurate I am, but it helps me to keep some kind of clarity. The cheeky scratches on one bar, marking my time spent in hell.   
Time has become an evil concept to me for it knows no boundaries, no depths, and it bares no shame. It leaves me alone in this struggle for my sanity that is slowly prodding and poking me into closer states of deliriousness and uncertainty. I think of Harry and it helps to ease my mind but apart from those brief moments I sit alone and feel as though the world has stopped moving around me. The air is too still for time to be going on in this place.   
I believe that the Ministry has no intent to find out any truth. They must be happy to be able to say that they have one of the dark mage's 'loyal supporters': the evil, treacherous Sirius Black, safe behind Azkaban's bars. They care not that I am innocent. They only care that my capture and containment makes them look good to the public. It makes it look as though the Ministry is in control. Little do they know, the real evil is still out there, still at large, simply bidding his time until....   
My only hope for survival and escape from this pit is Pettigrew's slip-up... he is stupid, he will make a mistake and then, then I will be free.....   
  
**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **LinzyBrook**

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**November 26th, 1987******

I feel a dismal regret growing inside me as a search with gripping stares to find a patch of sky. I feel the cold seeping through the stone and can only imagine the contrast of white to this gray atmosphere. I miss looking at the heavens. I miss feeling the cool breeze on my face… And that night, a dream led to more memories of my dearest friend. 

He and I sat on a hilltop overlooking Godrick's hollow. He stared at me and said: "This is where we will stay. It's the safest place to be until my son is born. How I hate brining him into the world at such dangerous times…" Dangerous times they were, yet here has remained a peaceful memory of a dangerous time. It was there that we sat like the world had suddenly stopped turning, like the danger had become non-existent and us kings of the world, commanding all evils to stop at our will. When I woke… I found the evils were now all around me and fellow noble gone along with the overpowering rule he had to keep everyone collected and calm. If there was one thing my mind can't forget… it the way James Potter made everyone feel in his presence: assured, secure and willing to give his all for him.

**~Sirius~**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**A/N:** Hello? Hello? I'm alive but I'm very badly burned… Anyone? It's lonely in the evil lair's pit.


	8. Year 8

**A/N:**This year is very short as well, but it initiates another phase in our plot. This year is written entirely by me! lol. I hope you like it!****

**Disclaimer:**HP does not belong to me! Come people haven't I said it enough times? Why doesn't it get through? LOL!

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**January 31st, 1988******

I wonder just how long I can stay here. It's like hell... a cold unfeeling world that surrounds my very being. I wonder... has anyone ever been able to make it out? Had anyone ever tried? How could they with such vigilant charges roaming about? However, I cannot help to think that there is a way. I am a wizard and yet why can I not perform the tasks of muggle "magicians", to impossibly liberate myself from a terrible box? Now is the time to think of escape. Trapped in a cage of granite and steel, I am slowly loosing myself. I need to become an escape artist... yes. Deceit... can it work on Dementors?

**Sirius**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**April 24th, 1988******

The way they drag me about like cattle is secretly a blessing. I've been moving quite a bit since I began to devise my plan. Taking the time to no longer transform into a dog has rekindled the flame that burns within the soulless encasements of the Dementors. They feel me and feed on me again and again… but I withdraw to that beastly body once I begin to truly feel weak. It is enough however, for they continue to increase my security. They watch over me… and haunt my very soul thinking that after all these years I am finally giving in! Fools, with this will of steel I stare at their dark faces while hiding a devious laugh. I am truly beginning to know every corridor, every step, every brick, and every spider as if remembering my own home. I passed by a window today. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen! I saw azure skies, titanium clouds and the thunderous crash of the breaking tide. I am a prisoner just like the count of Monte Cristo, the only muggle book I ever read. How ironic that we are living in the same world, caught in a prison for a crime we did not commit. Yes, the similarities are uncanny but perhaps I can use his experience to my own advantage… perhaps… I can escape.

**Sirius**

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**August 18, 1988**

They say patience is a virtue. They say every horizon has a silver lining. Well, like the horrors that seep through these walls I will invisibly creep with my hope intact and my beliefs about me. However, determination and dignity do not always go hand and hand for my plan involves the lack of one of those virtues. I have thought long and hard and have reflected upon the realities of this obscure world. When the prisoner's bodies are spent, when the life and happiness has been sucked dry from these living wax statues where do they go? Where do the dead shells find their final resting place? Wherever it is, it's outside these walls. So my plan, taken from the pages of an innocent such as I, will try to convince these sightless demons that I am no longer of any use to them. And bring myself to near death to do so for nothing in this world is worth living out this pitiless life in a dank fortress of sadness. I will begin my plan soon… very soon…

**Sirius **

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Written by: **Burning Artist**

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	9. Year 9

**A/N: **Okay! We're getting closer and closer to where Linzy and I had stopped! Not much prewritten after year 9! I hope I can find Linzy so we can write more together because for now… it's still just little old me.

**Disclaimer: **Okay… it's been 9 years and still no one gets it! LOL. J.K. Rowling's material, our twist!

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**January 4th, 1989******

It has been months since I could find the strength to write. Letting myself be taken by these Dementors was foolish and impractical. Letting them come near enough to me to wax my skin, thin my bones and hollow my heart only made me go mad! I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe and I could barely speak. Transforming into a dog had become painful. I didn't have enough magic after letting them drain me with whatever foul thing lay beneath their robes. Skin and bones… it was all that was left in me yet the Azkaban guards and ministry officials' reactions were not that of compassion. Even as I lay so close to complete wretchedness, they looked upon my sickly body and laughed. They laughed! They enjoyed my tormented and twisted sight! I was near death and they relished in the vision on my weakness! They are demons far worse then Dementors! I AM INNOCENT! I am a victim yet they care not! As long as they have comfort in the assurance of my guilt… they care not. A hooded one does come near as I write. He wants to take me again but he will not have me! I transform. He moves away… I want to escape! I want to be free! Please, can no one help? These tears seeping from within me are the only emotion left! I feel cold… I need rest… I need comfort… love? But who would come for me? No one would dare. All those I love are dead… but did they ever love me at all? Who would love a murderer? No wait! I'm not a murderer! Am I? Is that why they laugh? Is that why I'm here? The Dementors take from me because I'm guilty? 'Innocent', 'guilty', 'crime'; are nothing but words. Rest… I need… rest…

**Sirius **

Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**April 18th, 1989******

So much for my plan, so much for the taste of freedom... Why can't fate come to my rescue? I'm so tired of these walls, tired of being alone, and tired of it all. I must keep my mindset. I must keep my wits about me. Yet words, even so written, are embedded with ink, not blood.

Silence then merciless yells. I must think of good things – but then I must not. For if I do to keep my sanity; then the Dementors will smell it. They'll rush to me like bloodhounds to towards their favorite pray. If only I had my wand again.

Once again, I was raped and violated of an important part of me, the very wand I had gone to get with him. We were so young and excited. Learning magic the way real wizards should was something truly amazing, especially for him – for James. James… Remus, I wonder what he thinks of me now. I wonder if he believes that I'd betray one of our best friends.

Yet – _he_ did, didn't he? It was not I was it? It was the rat – and poor Harry – no. I can't loose my nerve now. I just can't.

**Sirius **

Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**September 1st, 1989**

The scent to dry autumn air fills me tonight. I can sense the crispness of the wind – sweet winds of freedom. It is life and transcends all things solid and fluid. My only wish right now would be to become that wind. Living each moment erratically, master less to the rest of these beings. Humans – be they wizard or muggle, do not have such understanding of the world. I can even sense it in my dog form how separated I am from everything as a human. As a dog I feel the breath on their lips, the pulse of the earth and the connection to life. No – this is not life. This suspended existence only brings me more grief and sorrow. My only wish now: To simply end it. I wish to end it all! Not that my life even before coming to this cursed place was anything of comfort. The only comfort were my friends and now they are gone. Harry – I hope you're doing well. I'll meet you someday, one way… or another.

**Sirius **

Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**September 18, 1989**   
  
I don't know how long I can stand it. Each breath brings consequence to a new futile reality. Now I have a new plan! No longer shall I sit here breathing in the decaying air and take in the sight of death! I will become part of it. Become the dark void and no longer let any light inside. I just need… an opportunity…

**Sirius **

Written by: **Burning Artist**

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**September 24. 1989**   
  
I… will… die…

**Sirius **

Written by: **Burning Artist**

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